


Smile

by MeansToOffend (goodmorning)



Series: Pick Me Up [12]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2017-2018 NHL Season, Carolina Hurricanes, Dimples, M/M, Pick-Up Lines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 19:43:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14172096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodmorning/pseuds/MeansToOffend
Summary: "He’s not in love, and he’s not pining, but Jeff can’t deny that he thinks about Jordy, just occasionally. It’s kind of funny, anyway, to have a thing for his captain again; but it’s interesting that this time, one of the captains might just have a thing for him too."





	Smile

One of the best decisions Jeff has ever made - slightly behind choosing hockey over figure skating and well ahead of that gas station sushi - is keeping in touch with his old English teacher, because her recommendations are the best. Not only does he look smart reading the classics, he’s also entertained by them, and she’s never steered him wrong yet.

The newest one is in his bag, waiting for him to get on the plane to Winnipeg. Unfortunately, the mobile stairway broke, and they have to wait for a new one. So they’re standing on the tarmac like a bunch of idiots.

Jeff caves, takes the book out, flips to the first page.

_‘It was love at first sight.’_

He snaps it closed, looks around, double-checks the back cover. Still about war. 

_‘The first time Yossarian saw the chaplain he fell madly in love with him.’_

He closes it again, looks around again, and maybe it’s the weird opening sentences he just read, but Jordy is looking at him with his head a little to one side, and he looks away when Jeff notices, and, huh. _Huh._

But he might be imagining this, and the book isn’t the only reason why. No, he’s into it on a personal level too. Oh, he’d been a rookie with a crush on his captain once, sure, but that had already faded when Jordy walked into the room for the first time. He’d had the same determination as his brother, but bigger and haler and friendlier, and Jeff had thought, _yeah, I_ so _would._

He’s not in love, and he’s not pining, but Jeff can’t deny that he thinks about Jordy, just occasionally. It’s kind of funny, anyway, to have a thing for his captain again; but it’s interesting that this time, one of the captains might just have a thing for him too.

\--

The long grind of the season is almost enough to make him shelve it, though, burying him in goals and assists, wins and losses, except that one day at practice he drops his stick tape. It’s stupid - he trips over his own skates, and only manages to catch himself and the two sticks - but when he stands up, Jordy is staring at the spot where his ass was. 

He looks kind of hungry. Jeff’s pretty sure it’s not a sandwich he wants. 

And so The Thing That Refused To Stop Being A Thing is now back in the forefront.

\--

If it was just his ass that would be one thing - everyone has hockey ass, his isn’t all that special - but it’s not. He discovers this completely by accident when they’re out celebrating Jordy’s four-point game against Dallas.

Jordy drinks way too much because he doesn’t seem to want to turn anyone’s drinks down, and at last he’s just kind of gently sloshed in their booth in the corner. Jeff smiles at him, because he’s cute and too drunk to be worth chirping. Jordy stares at his mouth, licks his lips. Jeff bites his own lip, watches Jordy’s face pink and his eyes darken, and has to excuse himself.

He’s not a teenager; he doesn’t jerk off in the bathroom. He kind of wants to, though. So maybe The Thing He Really Can’t Forget is a little more serious than he thought.

\--

Jeff has been smiling a lot more recently. Partly this is the book he’s still reading, all puns and dark humour even if it’s also just dark sometimes. Mostly, though, it’s because it always seems to make Jordy’s brain short-circuit in a way that’s equal parts endearing and flattering. It’s really entertaining to watch his eyes drift to Jeff’s dimples, various blushes spreading over his face, occasionally worrying at his lip.

But the question now is: what is he actually supposed to do about The Thing That Is Definitely Requited To Some Extent? Is there any good way to turn to your teammate and say, “Hey, I couldn’t help but notice you really like my dimples, wanna make out?” And can he even do it without making Jordy feel like an idiot? “Oh, by the way, you’re so obvious that our teammates have a bet on when you’ll tell me you want to play a different kind of hockey with me?”

He goes on in the same vein for a while before it suddenly hits him: he has to embarrass himself, too, and he knows just the line to do it with.

\--

Even though he’s solved the problem of what to say, he’s still kind of stuck on the where and when. It’s really starting to wear on him when Wardo pulls him aside after practice.

“I bet on you telling him first, you know,” he says, apropos of nothing at all.

“I know,” Jeff confirms. “Hanny can’t keep a secret to save his life, and Faulker hasn’t changed his phone password since the last time I figured it out.”

“Good,” Wardo smiles. “Have you figured out how you’re going to do it yet?”

“Isn’t this cheating?”

“Not at all. I can’t encourage you to tell him, but since you’ve already decided you’re going to…”

“I guess that makes sense,” says Jeff, even though it really doesn’t. Anyway he cares more about getting Wardo’s advice than he does about the integrity of a betting pool that he’s not even in. He explains his trouble.

Wardo looks thoughtful for a moment. “He’s hosting the team on Friday, Skinny. Just show up Saturday morning and say you forgot something.”

“Oh,” Jeff says. “Why the hell didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you were too busy worrying to have a decent idea,” Wardo says, slapping him on the back as he leaves.

\--

Jeff isn’t sure when ‘midseason cookout at the captain’s house’ became code for ‘come on, kids, time to get wasted,’ but he’s guessing it’s something to do with Faulker, who’s clearly sober himself if the rate at which he’s posting videos to the leadership-and-veterans group text is any indication. Some of them are pretty good, actually - nobody’s going to let Hayds live down Faulker convincing him his shoes were on the wrong feet, and Jeff is almost looking forward to showing Ginner the step-by-step making of his own hangover - but they’re also making him wish he was young and dumb and crushing on his captain again, instead of old and dumb and pining for his captain.

It’s making him awkward as hell, and he knows it’s making him awkward as hell, and he just wants to go home. But he can’t.

Not only does he have to be here as, ostensibly, a responsible alternate captain, he also has to stay long enough to believably forget something. So he waits.

When he finally gets home, the night is mostly a nervy blur. He can remember Darly saying something encouraging, that he spoke to Wills for quite a while, but none of the actual words are still with him. The only thing he can recall completely is excusing himself to the bathroom and carefully, carefully leaving his phone half-hidden behind the soap dispenser.

\--

He wakes up early the next morning despite not having his phone alarm, early enough that he has to sit around and wait until he thinks Jordy should be awake.

Jeff cracks a little past eight, makes the drive over in silence. He tries the radio, once, but every station just gets on his nerves. 

When he gets to Jordy’s, rings the doorbell, Jeff has to wait some more for an answer. The door opens slowly, with a sound like Jordy taking a deep breath, and there he is, mouth open like it always is when he’s about to yell, but he sees Jeff and snaps it closed. He stands there, in sweats and a Canes shirt, staring like he desperately wants to believe what he’s seeing. He reaches out a hand to touch Jeff’s shoulder.

“Hi,” says Jeff. “Can I come in?”

He explains, while pretending to search, that he’s lost his phone, and, when Jordy offers to call it, that it’s on silent. After the living room, they move to the kitchen, and Jordy offers him a cup of coffee.

It fortifies Jeff. He stops pretending to search. “You know,” he says, “I actually had something I wanted to tell you while I’m here.”

Jordy puts down his coffee, gestures for Jeff to go on.

“See, you’re very - well, I just - oh, fuck it. Are you a smile?”

And Jordy’s face goes from hopeful to confused. “A what?”

“A smile. Because I want you to come on my face,” Jeff says, and takes a long sip of coffee before peeking at Jordy. He’s nearly red enough to rival their sweaters, staring at Jeff’s mouth on the rim of the mug, eyes dark with want.

They stay frozen for a short while, Jeff sipping his coffee, Jordy watching him. Jeff finishes drinking, puts the mug down gently, and turns back to Jordy, who’s thankfully a more usual shade of red. “Well?”

“Yes,” says Jordy. “I - what you said, I’d like to do that.”

“Good,” says Jeff, “but my knees aren’t going to cut it on this wood floor, so-”

“Oh god,” Jordy interrupts, and takes him to the bedroom.

The carpet is good quality, thick and soft against his bare feet, but Jeff shoves Jordy onto the bed and grabs a pillow anyway, dropping it on the floor with a soft thump. Then he notices his mistake and has to drag Jordy back to standing. “What-?” he starts, and Jeff answers by pulling off his sweats, shoving him back to the bed when he discovers Jordy didn’t bother with underwear this morning.

Arranging himself and the pillow gives Jeff a chance to look, really look, and he definitely takes it. Jordy’s dick is half-hard already, flushed darker than his face, and Jeff wants to taste it.

He looks up first. Jordy’s blush runs down his neck, his lips parted. He already looks like a mess and Jeff hasn’t even touched him yet.

“If you’re having second thoughts-” Jordy says, but Jeff cuts him off again, this time closing his lips around the head of Jordy’s dick, flicking his tongue over the slit. “-fuck,” Jordy finishes. Jeff has to stop and laugh at him before licking his way to the base of his cock and back up again, getting Jordy’s smooth, warm skin wet enough to really blow him right, hot and quick and sloppy.

He takes a long breath to prepare himself and slides his mouth as far down Jordy’s dick as he can. Jordy sighs, raggedly, but - to his credit - doesn’t move.

Jeff can definitely work with that.

He pulls off slowly, upping the suction as much as he can, lapping at the head when he gets there. The musk-salt taste of precome hits his tongue, kicking him into gear. He sets up in an irregular rhythm, sometimes long, hard strokes, sometimes short and quick, stopping for breath only when he has to, until Jordy’s thighs are tense under his hands. Jeff moves one to his shaft, then, pumping it as he focuses on teasing the head with his tongue. He feels it pulse in his hand, pulls off, and Jordy comes on his face.

There’s a little on his cheek, but mostly it’s around his lips. He licks them, convulsively, and suddenly Jordy is hauling him up onto the bed and his pants are gone and Jordy’s mouth is on his dick. Jeff comes before he can even think to offer a warning. Jordy swallows it - _fuck_ \- and grins.

“Want to nap here before practice?” he asks.

“Sounds nice,” Jeff manages.

Jordy pulls back the covers, wipes Jeff’s face with his shirt, laughs when Jeff gives him a look. He lays down, arm coming around to pull Jeff in, and they both nod off.

\--

They walk into practice holding hands. The room erupts in a mixture of cheers and groans, and Jeff can’t help but smile.

**Author's Note:**

> \- Jeff Skinner [reads books - and likes the classics, too;](http://www.newsobserver.com/sports/nhl/carolina-hurricanes/canes-now/article174603926.html) I picked Catch-22 because I could quote it without having to look and it seemed to fit the situation.  
> \- I'm not sure there's a single person on the planet whose heart wouldn't flutter at least a little bit if confronted with Jeff Skinner's smile.  
> \- Also, the inspiration for this: I was scrolling through that reddit pickup line thread because I only had like 20/31 ideas, saw this one, and went WELL WHO COULD THAT BE FOR.  
> \- I'm not actually sure if I like this one and I don't know why.  
> \- The summary is the biggest fucking lie though. "He's not pining" _my ass_


End file.
